


Whatever I feel for you (you only seem to care about you)

by mimc



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, I guess???, M/M, i'm not quite sure tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimc/pseuds/mimc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d said “I love you” four times that night, and not one of them heard a proper answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever I feel for you (you only seem to care about you)

**Author's Note:**

> all i can say is: i was feelin it  
> (and i'm sorry)

Marco’s vision became gradually blurrier as he roughly opened the closet door and started shoving all of Mario’s personal stuff in a huge Adidas suitcase. He heard loud steps as Mario walked into the room, making a pathetic attempt to calm him down, but they both knew very well that, in the end, it wouldn’t matter at all. Sooner or later, stupid, naïve Marco would be there for Mario with his arms wide open.

Truth be told, their “thing” (he wouldn’t dare call it anything other this) was beyond explanation, a paradox - they’d fight and Marco would kick Mario’s shit all the way to the doorstep; the next morning, he’d wake up to the smell of Mario's favorite shower foam and a cup of poorly brewed coffee inside the microwave, but never a sign of Mario. _I’m sorry_ , he says, _I won’t do it again. I’ll break up with Ann. I’ll make us official. I won’t leave_. Marco would always believe him, and that was the reason why he felt free to constantly fuck up and start the bloody cycle all over again - fighting, then leaving, then coming back like nothing had ever happened. Meanwhile, Marco would be just there, doing what he did best: waiting for him to come back.

Nevertheless, it hadn’t always been like this. On a drunken night that seemed ages ago, after fucking like they had never had before, Marco laid his back on the bed and watched the man besides him. Though Mario’s legs were still wide open, his eyes were shut tight and, among other half-drunken considered possibilities, Marco thought he could just, well, say it. He closed his eyes too and let out a whisper, so quiet that Mario couldn’t even hear it at first, but Marco repeated it again, and again, and then a fourth time. When he finally opened his eyes, the younger man was lying on his side, frowning, and Marco felt insecure.

He’d said “I love you” four times that night, and not one of them heard a proper answer. _Go to sleep, Marco, you’re drunk._ No, he wasn’t drunk, he’d never been more sober, and maybe that’s why none of these last words ever came out his mouth again and he just turned his back to Mario, swallowing them down, saving them for the morning after, and the one after that, and the one after that, until they were stuck on his throat and suffocated him so much he could barely breathe. But none of it mattered anymore.

Mario never did any good to him and, if he said he hadn’t realized that much before, then he’d be a fucking liar. In fact, Marco _hated_ him. He hated his manipulative ways, his fake carefulness, all the promises he knew he wouldn’t keep. But, above all, he hated the way they were each other’s opposite and complement - he hated the way he needed Mario as much as fire needs oxygen in order to keep burning, and he hated the fact that Mario didn’t seem to feel the same way.

He opened the front door and chucked the bag on Mario’s chest.

"Marco, stop! Will you at least let me explain?"

"Spare me."

"Look, I know I messed up, alright? It’s not like I’m trying to fuck things up with you- it’s just that Ann’s been quite suspicious lately, yeah? She’s been checking my phone, asking how you’ve been- listen, I’m sorry, it’s not gonna happen again. I know you want me to break up with her and I’ll do it when I can, I promise, I just can’t do it now. Could you please forgive me?"

Marco hesitated, but only for a split second.

"I always do" he said, and Mario smiled.


End file.
